


...then i get to try to put it back together

by sinfuldesire_archivist



Category: Smallville RPF, Supernatural RPF
Genre: Drama, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-01-12
Updated: 2007-01-11
Packaged: 2018-09-03 05:54:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8699929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinfuldesire_archivist/pseuds/sinfuldesire_archivist
Summary: The final installment in the new otp 'verse.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the Sinful Desire archivists: this story was originally archived at [Sinful-Desire.org](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Sinful_Desire). To preserve the archive, we began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2016. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [Sinful Desire collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/sinfuldesire/profile).

**Title:** …then i get to try to put it back together [1/3]  
**Pairing:** SV!Jensen/GG!Jared  
**Rating:** NC-17  
**Word Count:** 3,731  
**Summary:** Next installment in the new otp ‘verse.  
**Notes:** This is the beginning of the end, y’all. Another two parts to follow. Enjoy! ♥  
  
  
  
  
 

**…then i get to try to put it back together: Part 1  
by keepaofthecheez**

  
  
  
So. Friends.  
  
Jared can do this, he knows he can. Got voted damn ‘Friendliest’ his senior year in highschool, didn’t he? He’s never had a problem starting a conversation with just about anybody, and hell…he _likes_ people. It’s a fact, listed on his website even.  
  
Jensen isn’t most people. Jensen makes him feel like those freaking twist-ties his mama collects from the trash bag boxes – useful, but easily lost and forgotten. Thrown away for the new and improved bags with the built-in ties, and it’s all just a really long way of saying that Jensen fucks him up. And as much as Jared tries otherwise, he isn’t sure it’ll ever be any other way. That he’ll ever look at Jensen and _not_ feel like a naïve, bumbling idiot.  
  
It’s not Jensen’s fault he feels that way. It’s just hard not to blame Jensen for it.  
  
Even now, with their coffeeshop tête-à-tête fresh on his mind, and the repercussions of that conversation thrumming through his blood like a heady drug, Jared still feels that blip of nerves when he glances up and sees Jensen walking on set. It’s an odd feeling…still having that urge to walk over, press against Jensen and lick the broody scowl off of his features. Tempered by an equally strong impulse to kick him in the teeth.  
  
Their eyes meet. Jensen’s frown clears, and Jared sucks in a silent breath as Jensen changes direction after a split-second hesitation. By the time they’re breathing the same air, Jared’s got a smile on his face and his hands in his pockets.  
  
“Hi,” he says, because he can be friendly with Jensen.   
  
“Hey.” Jensen’s teeth flash, and Jared’s chest deflates with relief. _They can do this._ “So, I hear we get to blow shit up today…set some things on fire.”  
  
Jared’s grinning before he even has to remind himself to, bumping Jensen’s shoulder as he walks past him toward the catering station. “You mean _you_ get to blow shit up,” he corrects dryly. “I get to be tied up and left for demon fodder.”  
  
“Baby brother bait. Best there is,” Jensen drawls, and Jared snorts, shifting on his feet to look under the lids of food and desserts. When it comes again, Jensen’s voice is deeper and more tentative than before. “Hey, listen.”  
  
Head cocked, Jared glances over into green-gold eyes, fingers freezing around a plate of steak. Jensen blinks, a small flutter of golden, girly lash and lid, and just that easily Jared’s pulse is racing like an Olympic athlete’s.   
  
He’s not sure what he really expects Jensen to say, which is why it’s mildly tongue-tying when all that comes out of Jensen’s mouth is a breezy, “You busy tonight? Thought we could get a drink and hang out or something.”  
  
“Um…” Jared reaches back, scratches his neck and nearly drops his plate in the process. Jensen’s lips twitch, but his eyes remain careful and easy when Jared looks back at him. It’s enough for Jared to laugh at himself, shrugging a shoulder. “Yeah, you know, that sounds good.”  
  
The smile Jensen gifts him with, honest and bright, more than makes up for the less-than-perfect moments between them, and Jared realizes then and there that he’s forgiven Jensen all along. It’s a little bit unnerving, but then Jensen nods and backs away, like he _knows_ any sudden move could bring the entire house of cards crashing down around them. Again.  
  
“Great. I’ll catch up with you later.”  
  
Jared watches him leave, helpless and frustrated and aching to call Jensen back, hear his voice, find his center again. But the next time they see each other, Jensen’s nowhere to be found. Just Dean, and that cocky smirk that says _I know you better than you know yourself, little brother._  
  
Brother or not, it’s just Jared’s bad luck that it’s too damn true.  
  
  
 

xxx

  
  
  
“Friends?”  
  
“Friends,” Jared echoes confidently, watching the blue-black strands of hair slip through his fingers. He sits up on one elbow, studies the upside-down vision of Sandy’s nose. “You look weird.”  
  
“You _are_ weird.” Sandy digs her elbow deep into the muscle of Jared’s thigh. “Hey. You gonna use this kind of sweet talk on Jensen tonight?”  
  
“Please.” Jared laughs, a little too loud. _Say it like you mean it, damn._ “Friends,” he says again, reaching over for his drink.  
  
“Uh-huh.”  
  
“Look it up, McCoy.” He stands up, letting Sandy’s head drop to the floor. “Besides, he might not even call…” He trails off, hating how uncertain he sounds and feels about that. Sandy’s watching him, so he turns the corner into the kitchen and pulls open the backdoor for some fresh air.   
  
Jensen’s standing there, hands in the pockets of jeans that are just a bit too worn. And looking too fucking perfect. Jared stares at him, arm dropping to his side.  
  
“…Jensen.”  
  
“Hey.” Jensen’s mouth quirks, and then he leans on one hip and looks up at Jared from under his lashes. “You still wanna…?”  
  
“Yeah.” Jared doesn’t hesitate. “Yeah, I—”  
  
Jensen’s smile falls flat with the approach of heels from somewhere inside the house, and then Sandy’s there, peeking over Jared’s shoulder. “Well, well.” She shoves Jared none too lightly to the side. “Nice to see you again, Jensen.”  
  
Jensen’s gaze flickers between them, and Jared notices the quick, pained tic in his jaw. Feels an answering clutch in his chest as he reads the conclusions drawn in familiar green eyes, even as he hears Jensen say, “Yeah, you, too.”  
  
Jared’s mouth works, and he glances down to see Sandy staring at him in exasperated amusement. “I was just leaving,” she says, rolling her eyes and moving past. “Jared, I’ll call you from the airport later. You guys have fun!”  
  
“Airport?” Jensen asks a few seconds after Sandy’s speedy departure. His voice is tighter than before, but he’s smiling and _trying_ and Jared feels ten types of girly for even noticing.  
  
It’s that feeling that has him not quite able to meet Jensen’s gaze. “She’s gotta go back to California. Some bit part on an indie she’s had her eye on since September.”   
  
“Oh. Well…don’t you wanna see her off or whatever?” Jensen forces a smile that would almost seem genuine if Jared could bring himself to believe it. And then Jensen’s smile reaches his eyes and _he_ reaches out, punches Jared on the shoulder. “We can hang out another time, go see your girl, man.”  
  
The husky invitation slides across his skin, along with a spark-and-burst of pleasurepain from Jensen’s fist. Jensen’s watching at him and he looks scared to death, and that makes it so damn simple.  
  
“Dude, we’re going.” Jared laughs, like the idea of another option is completely ridiculous. And maybe it is. “After that scene today, I _need_ to get drunk.”  
  
“What, don’t like hanging from the rafters, Padalecki?” Jensen’s gaze follows him as he goes for his jacket hanging on the wall by the door. A smirk curls the pout on pink lips. “Looked like you were havin’ fun to me.”  
  
“Maybe you need your eyes checked then, _Ackles_ ,” Jared returns, but there’s no heat in it. Just a sort of teasing camaraderie that leaves him soft and pliant. Open.  
  
_We can be friends._  
  
  
 

xxx

  
  
  
They wind up at a little pub on Granville Island with cheap imports and good music, and Jared’s on his fourth glass of Guinness when things start to get a little fuzzy around the edges. He says as much to Jensen, and is treated to another blinding-soft grin.  
  
“Oughta slow down then.” Jensen’s quiet, rumbly voice sends Jared’s belly swimming like a preteen’s. Jensen’s sprawled out in his chair, comfortable and gleaming beneath the dim bar lighting. He lifts his own glass, smiles over the rim. “Crazy.”  
  
“Hmm?” Jared’s staring stupidly at him, lips curved, head tilted to the side.  
  
“A big boy like you,” Jensen explains, voice catching on a husky-deep note. He licks his bottom lip and shakes his head. “Can’t hold any damn liquor.”  
  
“Not drinkin’ liquor.” Jared’s quick to point that out, because it seems important. He raises his drink in a salute, teeth flashing. “Drinkin’ _Guinness_. Those Irish sure knew their shit, man. ”  
  
Jensen’s chuckle is soft. “You’re a walkin’, talkin’ cliché, Jay.” The second it’s out, something like regret flickers through his eyes, and then Jensen practically closes in on himself. “Oh, hell, I’m sorry, I--”  
  
Jared’s got a hand on Jensen’s wrist before his co-star can finish fumbling his way through an apology. “S’okay.” His tongue feels thick with alcohol and memories. Possibilities. “You can call me that, Jen.” He dips his head, searching Jensen’s gaze, voice gone scratchy and low. “If you want.”  
  
Jensen’s staring down where Jared’s fingers are closed tight around his sleeve, an odd expression pulling his features taut, his eyes half-lidded. Jared’s fingers dig deeper, searching for heat just under soft cotton, and Jensen clears his throat, voice barely a whisper: “Jared.”  
  
It’s on the tip of Jared’s tongue to ask, to _demand_ that Jensen take it back – _it’s Jay, not Jared_ \- but Jensen already looks uncomfortable enough. Jared pulls back, slowly, and Jensen’s breath parts his lips on a ragged tremble.  
  
“I wanna know you,” he blurts out, heart pounding, and Jensen’s gaze snaps up, meets his straight-on. A melting whirlwind of golden hope and green uncertainty, deep black heat.   
  
It’s what they’re really here for, after all. The two hours spent laughing and drinking, sticking to strictly work and surface bullshit certain not to raise any flags…it was all inevitably leading to this. Jared’s pretty sure of that, anyway. Things like motivations are kind of fuzzy at the moment.  
  
Jensen dips his head, stares at his glass mere inches from his white-knuckled fist. “What do you wanna know?”  
  
Jared stares at him, watching the slow bump and slide of Jensen’s Adam’s apple as he swallows. _Everything._ “I wanna know…Vedder or Cornell?”  
  
The look on Jensen’s face is almost worth the price of admission, and Jared bursts out in an actual kneeslapping laugh, hair falling across his brow and into his eyes as Jensen slowly breaks out into a grin.  
  
“Seattle Four, huh? Would’ve thought the grunge rock movement was just before your time, man.” But there’s relief coloring Jensen’s features, and Jared feels a sense of accomplishment, even if he knows the stuff they’re _not_ talking about is all gotta come out eventually. And it will; he’s sure of that now, sitting in a lowkey Irish pub with beer warming his belly and Jensen’s smile heating his face.  
  
“You’re not that ancient yourself,” Jared answers, voice a light tease as his fingers creep along the edge of his forearm. “Just answer the question, Jen.”  
  
Jensen takes another long sip, eyes darkening with pleasure. “Cornell,” he admits a few seconds later, and Jared lets out an approving whoop. “C’mon, Jared. Gimme somethin’ harder.”  
  
“Mustard or mayo?” Jared leans forward, waving a hand in front of Jensen’s face. “And dude, don’t even go the Miracle Whip route…that shit’s mayonnaise on sugar.”  
  
“It’s salad dressing, and I don’t eat it anyway.” Jensen catches Jared’s finger and squeezes. “Watch where you point that thing, Big Jay.”  
  
“Somewhere else I should point it?” Jared asks without thinking, and then feels a flush work its way up his neck when Jensen’s grip tightens, his pupils distending and swallowing the gold rim around green. “I, uh, I mean…”  
  
“Mustard.” Jensen drops Jared’s finger quickly, nearly choking himself on a quick sip of beer. Recovering himself, he licks his lips and watches Jared with careful eyes. “Lemme ask _you_ something, Jared.”  
  
“Boxer-briefs.” The joke’s instant and instinctive, meant to relax, and Jared gives a small grin when Jensen blinks, a startled laugh breaching his lips.  
  
“Yeah. I, no, um…I just.” There’s that look again, like Jensen’s not really sure he should ask, but he’s going to anyway. Jared knows that, because he _sees_ Jensen square his shoulders, lips tightening briefly at the corners before he looks up and into Jared’s eyes. “You and Sandy. I know it’s none of my business, man.”  
  
Jared’s smile fades away. _Yes. Please._ “So ask me anyway.”  
  
There’s a quiver to Jensen’s mouth when he sucks in deep. “How serious? I mean, she’s gone but…?”  
  
It’s the vulnerability that brings Jared to his knees. This raw exposure to a side of Jensen he’s never been allowed to see, and because of _him._ Because of some stupid misconception in Jensen’s head that Jared’s never bothered to correct because, hell, it was so much safer to let it lie. Not to own up to the truth, because the truth wouldn’t set him free from Jensen.  
  
Maybe he’s not a twist-tie, but the built-in kind after all.  
  
His throat feels ten sizes too small for the words he wants to say, and they come out scraped and cracked. “Seriously not at all. She’s a friend, man. You don’t…”   
  
_You don’t have to worry._  
  
“Friend,” Jensen parrots, so soft Jared almost wonders if he imagined it instead. “Okay, well…hell.” He’s not looking at Jared anymore, hands clenched tight around the frosted glass, but Jared sees the slight shudder racking broad shoulders. Hears the quiet curse under the folk music playing overhead.   
  
Jared sits there, feeling helpless and off-kilter, and then Jensen lifts his head.  
  
He’s smiling, but his eyes are shining and Jared’s can’t be sure of the emotions driving either of them at this point. He knows he wants to move over, press up against Jensen and offer the comfort he’s seeking himself. Doesn’t give a good goddamn what it does for his supposed manliness, and Rosenbaum can kiss his ass. He’s just not sure if Jensen wants it, and that’s what matters most.  
  
After a long, heavy beat of silence, Jensen says, “Getting late.” He checks his watch as if to confirm the statement after the fact, then pushes his chair back with a scrape against the wooden floor. “Better get you home before you can’t walk, ‘cause I’m not lugging your ass back to the car by myself.”  
  
It’s not anger coloring Jensen’s words, but something’s not altogether _right._ Jared’s too damn drunk to put his finger on it, but that doesn’t stop him from pulling Jensen to a stop just outside of the bar, hand heavy on the shoulder of Jensen’s leather jacket.  
  
“Hey,” he says, licking lips ripe with beer. “Lookit me.” He tugs until Jensen finally turns around, forces a finger up under that square jaw. “We okay?”  
  
So goddamn _much_ riding on such a simple sentence, but Jared can’t think of a better way to put it. Not with that glittering gaze hot and focused on him, and when Jensen moves back, Jared’s hand falls with limp regret, already missing the prickly tease of scruff on skin.  
  
“We’re…great, Jay,” Jensen murmurs, sincere and true, and something broken inside of Jared starts to find its way back together again.   
  
  
 

xxx

  
  
  
It’s been an hour since the taxi dropped them off, since they stood in Jared’s backyard in surprisingly comfortable silence, staring at the storm clouds slowly overtaking the stars. When Jensen finally went in, Jared watched him go, wanting to call out, say _something_ , but at the same time hesitant to break whatever truce they’d come to tonight.  
  
He’s cracked open a bottle of Bud from God knows when, found way back in his fridge behind a carton of milk, and is just bringing it to his mouth when the phone by his bed rings.  
  
His blood starts pumping, fast and heady, and he doesn’t have to wonder who it is.  
  
“Today, on set,” Jensen says by way of greeting the second Jared picks up, and there's a slur in his voice that hadn’t been there when he’d watched Jensen disappear inside his apartment building. “You did real good, man.”  
  
“Yeah?” He can’t help but grin like a stupid fool, scratching the back of his neck and falling back against the pillows as he listens to the whiskey-rough sound of Jensen’s praise over the line. “Because I thought that last take was pretty good, but I mean…I don’t wanna go tootin’ my own horn or whatever.”  
  
There’s a second’s pause, and then, “God, you’ve just…” Jensen laughs, and the sound isn’t all amused. “You’ve changed _so damn much_ , Jared. I ‘member when you were…when you just…”  
  
Jared waits, hears Jensen clear his throat and the clinking of glass as his brow furrows. “Jen?”  
  
“I remember when you were so damn innocent,” Jensen says thickly, and Jared feels a pang himself deep down inside at the thought. “So damn _new_ to it all, y’know?”  
  
“Yeah, well, I remember something else.” It’s out before Jared can think better of it, his lips curving into a sly grin even as his belly goes tight and hot. There’s a long moment of silence, and then he sits up along the pillows.   
  
“…Jensen?” It’s a ridiculous question, because he can look out of his window and _see_ that Jensen’s still there. Can see Jensen sprawled out on his bed, all heavy limbs and—  
  
Oh, _God._  
  
“I remember a lot of things, Jared.” Jensen’s thick-blurry voice punctuates the slow slide of his hand up the blood-flushed length of his cock, and Jared can’t look away. A fucking bomb could go off by his head, and he’d still be staring. Still be watching through the window as Jensen touches himself in the dim lamplight, pink tongue swiping across his bottom lip. Jensen slides lower into the mattress and digs his heels in. “I-I remember the way you sound.”  
  
Jared grips the receiver so tightly he imagines a sharp _crack_ of plastic. “What the fuck are you doing, Jensen?” The words don’t sound nearly disapproving enough. Or at all, really.  
  
“…what you - _Christ_ \- what you taste like…” Jensen lets out a soft gasp, and Jared swallows hard. He doesn’t even have to look to _know_ what Jensen’s doing right now – that sweet whisper of breath is the rub of thumb against cock, that guttural growl is the flick of nail to nipple, and Jared feels desperation rise up to choke him.   
  
“Jensen, quit it, we’re…” It takes him a minute to get it out, without giving too much away, without gasping or groaning when he looks back out to watch his co-star jacking himself with steady tugs of fingers and palm. “We’re friends now.”  
  
Jensen’s reply is low and choked. “I know. I know, Jay, I’m sorry I…I don’t wanna. You’re so, things are…” Jared sees him buck up into his fist, his own hips lifting, fucking the air. “Things are _good_ , and I don’t mean to fuck it all up again. I just can’t… _help_ it, oh God.”  
  
_Oh, God_ , Jared echoes silently, heart and cock tripping doubletime as he slips a hand down his pants, closing long fingers roughly around himself. He pulls once, breath hissing out. “ _Jensen_.”  
  
“Minute I saw you, knew you’d be trouble.” Jensen’s laughing, the sound shaky and surreal. “Damn, you got such light, Jay, so much damn good in you. Just wanted some of it for m’self.”  
  
“Its okay,” Jared hears himself saying around the lump of his heart in his throat. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m not…” _I’m not gonna leave you again._  
  
“I’m so fucking proud of you, man.” A sharp intake of breath, almost a sob, and Jared’s chest goes tight and achy, even as his dick pulses in his hand. “Jus’ wanted you to know that.”  
  
Jared sees Jensen’s hand tremble around the phone, imagines the spark of uncertainty crossing his features, and feels himself slipping down the slope again. “Don’t you hang up,” he growls, alcohol and arousal buzzing in his veins, helpless love thickening his blood. “Goddamnit Jen, you don’t fucking lay this on me and then—”   
  
“I miss you.” It takes them both by surprise; the line heavy with silence for several long beats, before Jensen breathes out again. “Fuck, I _miss_ you.”  
  
“I’m right here,” Jared manages, cock hard and bursting. He feels like he’s trying to breathe through water – his chest is thick, his throat burning. “I’m right _here._ ”  
  
“I don’t know anyone else like you.” It’s an admission Jared wouldn’t have appreciated a few months back, when all he’d wanted was to be the same as everyone else. Not to stand out like a goofball, a newbie, but to blend and fit in. Hearing the words from Jensen’s lips, caressed and starstruck, he’s glad he never could.   
  
And still he says, “I’m nothin’ special. Make a helluva grilled cheese sandwich, though.”  
  
Jensen laughs, but his voice sounds small. “I’m so fucking close.”  
  
“I know.” Jared’s heart’s roaring in his ears; he fucks into his fist, watching Jensen squirm and shift on the bed through narrowed eyes. “Just a little harder, Jen. C’mon, baby.”  
  
“You’d do it harder?”  
  
“Yeah, I would.” _I am._ He swallows, feeling that first tug of climax bubbling low in his belly, and hisses out a breath. “This what you wanted? To hear me lose it over you?”  
  
“Jared—”  
  
“Always get what…you want.” Jared’s voice breaks with the first hot burst, eyes falling closed and hips thrusting. “Fuck. _Fuck._ ”  
  
And it’s like this is what Jensen’s been waiting for all along, because Jared hears the muffled curse across the line, the sharp cry as Jensen bucks into his fist and comes. It isn’t nearly sweet enough, because Jared can’t taste the sweat on Jensen’s collarbone. Can’t smell the bitter musk flavoring the air.  
  
“I’m sorry.” Jensen’s panting into the phone, and there’s honest contrition there, but Jared hears the satisfaction, too, and chooses to focus on that.  
  
“Don’t apologize,” he mumbles, sleepy and sated, fingers slipping through the mess on his belly. “M’not sorry, okay?”  
  
Jared’s pulse begins to hammer the longer Jensen remains quiet, and then Jensen’s voice comes out, earnest and amused. “Yeah, I’m not, either.”  
  
Jared bites his lip, tasting the smile threatening to split his face in two. Whatever’s happening, he doesn’t know if it’s for the best or if it’ll just make things worse. Nothing’s really changed, but everything has.  
  
“Hey, Jen, I forgot to ask you earlier…”  
  
“What’s that?”  
  
Jared drags it out, molasses-slow and thick. “Pepsi or Coke? And choose wisely.”  
  
Jensen’s soft laughter sticks with him long after the line goes dead.


	2. Chapter 2

**…then i get to try to put it back together: Part 2  
By keepaofthecheez**

  
  
  
The difference is immediate, noticeable, and Jared can’t bring himself to care if anyone suspects. He takes his seat in front of Jeannie, meeting the dark-haired stylist’s smile. “Hey, gorgeous,” he drawls, propping an ankle on his knee and glancing across the trailer toward Jensen who twitches under the attentions of their blonde makeup artist.  
  
“Sit still,” Shannon’s saying, airbrushing the circles under Jensen’s eyes with a purse to her lips. “Damn it, Jensen, what were you up to last night?”  
  
Jensen’s gaze widens comically, and Jared’s torn between the urge to laugh and sink through the floor. Amusement wins out, and he lets out a soft chuckle then leans back so Jeannie can straighten the curls falling across his forehead.  
  
“Jared and I just went out for a few drinks,” Jensen mumbles, but his lips are twitching, too, and Jared can’t honestly remember a time he felt better. Their eyes meet again, just a quick snag of green and brown, and then Jensen’s looking away with a full-on smile.  
  
It’s like that all through wardrobe, and during the short hike up to that day’s location set. Jared hasn’t gotten the sound of Jensen’s drunken admissions out of his head, and Jensen obviously remembers his as well, but there’s a sort of sweet acceptance to the awkwardness. For the first time in weeks, Jensen’s kind of quiet. He’s not purposefully seeking Jared out, provoking or patronizing him, but subdued and…comfortable.   
  
By contrast, Jared feels edgy and thrumming just under his skin. He tracks every movement Jensen makes, watching his co-star as he goes through his daily routine before filming. Jensen’s as much of a coffee addict as his character, and Jared grins at the way his co-star has the ADs running circles to the catering station and back every twenty minutes on the dot.  
  
They’re shooting almost completely on location this episode, on a lake no less. Jared’s read the script, knows there’s some fun and possibly dangerous stunts ahead, and he can’t fucking _wait_. Knowing Jensen’ll be right there with him makes it that much more of a thrill.  
  
By the time lunch rolls around, they’ve shot several close-ups, and Jared aches from touching Jensen but not really _touching_ him. He wastes time in between takes teaching their child guest star how to play video golf, and then catches sight of Jensen and Amy Acker in a corner by the salad bar.   
  
Amy laughs, throwing her head back and patting Jensen on the cheek. It’s totally harmless, hell, she’s married and Jensen knows it. Jared’s not jealous, but he can’t keep from feeling a little frustrated that he can’t walk over, throw his arm around Jensen and have Jensen accept it. Have everyone accept it.   
  
And then Jensen sees him and he trails off, cheeks pinkening as he reaches back and rubs at his neck. Jared’s fucking _delighted_ by this show of awkwardness, because he _knows._ Jensen doesn’t stop staring at him, and Jared’s smile brightens as he saunters over. Amy excuses herself a minute later, and then Jared stops bothering to even put up a front.  
  
“So,” he says, drawing out the word like honey molasses on wheat toast, “last night.”  
  
“Last night,” Jensen echoes, voice a low hum that entices Jared’s blood to pumping. He looks up at Jared from under his lashes, an easy, flirtatious tilt to his lips. “What about it?”  
  
Jared blinks, then wants to laugh. _Does_ laugh, shaking his head and moving closer. “Um…wanna do it again?”  
  
Jensen answers with a slow grin, eyes catching fire.  
  
  
 

xxx

  
  
  
This time they stick closer to home, choosing a small dive on the east end of Vancouver. Jensen’s been a few times, is friendly with some of the waitresses from back during his _Dark Angel_ and _Smallville_ days. It only takes Jared about two minutes and a quick grin to have them all fluttering over him instead, and he meets Jensen’s smirk over the top of his drink.  
  
“What?” Jared asks innocently, sucking a drop of beer from his lip.  
  
Jensen just shakes his head. “You’re too damn cute for your own good,” he grumbles, but he’s grinning and obviously not displeased at all.   
  
“Cute?” Jared cocks his head and pulls out the soulful Sam eyes. “I was hoping for another, more manly adjective. Like…hunky.”  
  
Jensen chews on his bottom lip, leaning back in his seat and just watching Jared. “Yeah, sure. That works.” He’s still smiling when he reaches over for his own drink.   
  
Jared can’t get over the feeling of warmth, of intimacy they’ve created in their small corner of the room, and as much as he wants to address the real topic they’ve been avoiding, he’s not completely ready. He’s gearing up to make another joke, keep the flow of conversation going, when a shadow falls across the table.  
  
“Holy shit, the wonders never cease. It’s a small world _after all._ ”  
  
Jensen’s smile falters, his fingers squeezing so tight that Jared imagines shattered glass and bloody skin, a queasy knot beginning to wind in his belly. The change in Jensen is immediate and unnerving: when their gazes meet again, it’s almost like a stranger's looking back at him.  
  
There’s an oily laugh from the intruder, and Jared frowns, glancing up and into the leering expression of a dark blond with strung-out, red-rimmed eyes. “Damn…been a long time, baby. You done good for yourself, huh? Well, congratulations.” The guy’s voice takes on a slyly aggressive tone, eyes sliding up and down Jensen with possessive heat that sends Jared’s skin crawling.  
  
Despite the flash of teeth, Jared’s damned sure that it’s not a compliment. The throwaway endearment doesn’t help his fraying grip with patience, and neither does Jensen stiffening from head to toe, the corners of his mouth going pale with strain. “Troy,” Jensen says, sounding like he’s choking on glass. “What-what are you doing here?”  
  
_Troy_ smacks his lips, then sways forward and slaps a hand down in the table. “Lookin’ for a good time,” he murmurs, slurred and suggestive. The booze on his breath gets Jared’s eyes watering. “But hell, found you instead. How ‘bout you put that pretty mouth somewhere it can do some good ‘stead of wasting it on reminiscing?”  
  
Jensen just looks down and says nothing , and Jared can’t help but laugh, incredulous and pissed off. He turns his gaze to Troy, fingers flexing around his bottle of beer. “The fuck, man? You always walk up to guys and ask them to blow you?”  
  
Jensen and Troy’s heads snap up as one, and Jared’s teeth grind together at the panic coloring Jensen’s eyes. _Don’t fucking take it, Jen._ Blood pumps thick and heavy through his veins, and it’s all he can do not to choke on it.  
  
“When it’s him?” Troy sneers, cocking his head and licking lips shiny and chapped from the cold. “Yeah. How long you known our boy, to ask a question like that?”  
  
“Back off, Jay.” Jensen’s voice is soft and steady, and Jared’s mouth falls open in outrage. Jensen’s eyes hold Jared’s in check, dark shadows mixing with apology, embarrassment. Guilt. “I made my bed.”  
  
Jared sucks in a breath, and everything fades but Jen – expression so open and pained, but already pulling into himself like he’s just waiting for the final blow. For Jared to give up, throw in the towel, leave him sitting there with the sins of his past.  
  
Jared’s fingers brush across Jensen’s white knuckles before he even realizes he’s reached across the table, and then he’s squeezing his hand. Jensen’s breath catches as he looks up from beneath heavy lids. “And you’re just gonna lay in it? That who you wanna be now, Jen?”  
  
Jensen stares at him for a long moment, gripping his hand so tight Jared might’ve winced had he not needed the connection just as much. When it comes, Jensen’s voice is low and quiet, a broken throb of regret. “That’s who I was.” His tongue flicks out, wetting his bottom lip. “But…I think…I can’t ever be that again.”  
  
Something inside of Jared comes apart, a soft catch-and-release, and his thumb presses deep into Jensen’s palm as he murmurs with conviction, “Then I’m not backing off.”   
  
He feels Jensen shaking a little, but Jen’s shoulders are squared and there’s a spark of relief shining in his eyes when he nods.   
  
“Oh, Jesus Christ. What is _this_ , Jensen? You think you’ve changed?” Troy’s voice is thick with derision, and Jared’s belly tightens on a sick wave of revulsion. “You are what you are, I thought you accepted that when I had my dick up your ass twelve years ago.”  
  
Jared goes cold at Troy’s nasty revelation, but he doesn’t let go of Jensen’s hand, even when his co-star tries to jerk away. A growl splits his lips, and he looks up at Troy without trying to hide the rage bubbling up beneath his skin. “He’s an actor, not a whore. And you’re gonna leave us alone now.”  
  
“Actually, no, I’m not.” Troy’s smirk is laden with hateful intent, and Jared’s lips twist into a smile that hurts.   
  
“Jared, _don’t._.”   
  
He finally lets Jensen’s hand fall, coming to his feet and ignoring the frustrated warning in Jensen’s voice.  
  
Troy’s a good two inches shorter than he is, and he cranes his neck to meet Jared’s gaze. Fingers fisting, practically _itching_ , Jared dips his head, moves a bit closer so the toes of his shoes brush Troy’s. “Yeah. You are.” He’s thrumming and on edge, holding Troy’s ice-cold gaze and grinning fiercely. “Only real question is whether or not you’ll be doing it on your feet or on your ass.”  
  
Troy’s lips part to argue and Jared’s fist flashes out, catches the asshole right in his too-white teeth. One of the sharp incisors cuts into his knuckle, but it’s a fleeting pain beneath the satisfying yelp that escapes Troy’s throat.  
  
Troy staggers back, and Jensen comes to Jared’s side, face red and eyes blazing. “Damn it, Jared. I can fucking handle this—”  
  
“You little shit!” Troy spits the words out through blood and thick tongue. “I’ll have your _ass_ for that!”  
  
Jared pauses, realizing that he never bothered to stop and find out who this guy is, what connections he might have to Jensen besides the obvious. Not that he gives a good goddamn, but Eric’s gonna wind up pissed off if Jared just knocked out a network suit or something. It only takes one look at Jensen, at the disgusted look on his face, to wipe that worry clean.  
  
“Have another drink, Troy.” Jensen sounds more furious than Jared’s ever heard him. “And then keep on drinking until your delusions carry more weight than a sack of shit.”  
  
Troy’s eyes widen just enough for Jared to see the wheels working behind them, and then Troy laughs, low and ugly. “You think this kid’s gonna stick by you when he finds out?” Before he can take another breath, Jared’s got both hands in his imitation silk shirt, shoving Troy back against an empty table and chairs.  
  
It’s only after the loud, resounding crash that Jared realizes how quiet it’s gotten in the bar. He heaves out a breath, licking his lips and looking up to find strangers eyes trained on the spectacle he and Troy’ve made. A flush threatens to work its way up his neck, but he’s too damn angry to care what the headlines might say about this. Then his gaze finds Jensen, and Jensen just shakes his head, motioning toward the back exit. Jared’s shoulders slump.  
  
“Let it go.” Jen grips Jared by the arm, voice heavy and thick with emotion. “C’mon, man. Before they throw us out anyway.”  
  
Still simmering, Jared glares once more in Troy’s direction, then jerks away from Jensen and storms toward the door. The second fresh night air fills his lungs, he turns and slams a fist into brick wall. Bone crunches, a sick wave of nausea rises into his throat, and he pulls his hand back and stares at the swollen flesh with dazed eyes. “Shit.”  
  
“What the fuck are you doing?” Jensen snaps, but Jared hears the anxiety…the goddamn _fear_ threaded through the irritation. He spins around, cradling his hand to find Jensen watching him like he half-expects Jared to hit _him_ next.  
  
That just makes Jared even more angry – not at Jensen, God no. He wants to drag Jensen up by the back of his neck, soften those pinched lips with his teeth and tongue, make Jensen fucking _realize_ that Jared’s too deeply involved in this – in _him_ \- to let it go sour. Not again. He just…he needs Jensen to let him…to _tell_ him…to—  
  
“Your hand.” Jensen comes forward, ignores Jared’s grunt of protest and wraps blunt fingers lightly around Jared’s injured wrist. Jared hisses through his teeth, as much from the contact and Jensen being _right there_ \- close enough to taste if he’d just look up and let Jared take those last few inches - as from the sharp throb of broken bone.   
  
Jensen lets out a low curse, angling his hand in the moonlight. “Goddamn it, Jared…we gotta get you to the hospital. What were you _doing?_ ”  
  
Then Jensen does look up, moonlit lashes framing eyes filled with worry and frustration; Jared finds himself swaying closer. Voice thick and slurred, he manages, “S’broken, I think.”  
  
“You _think?_ ” But Jensen’s tone is soft and resigned. His throat works like he’s planning to say something else, and Jared holds his breath until a smile quivers across Jensen’s lips. “You done with the Neanderthal routine for the night? Gonna let me get you to the emergency room?”  
  
“He insulted you, Jen. Both of us.” Jared knows he sounds sullen and pouty now, but he can’t help it. Not when Jensen’s fingers are caressing, gentle strokes up and down bruised flesh until Jared’s breath picks up and he’s leaning into the touch. “He’s a lying jackass and I hate him.”  
  
Jensen’s smile dims, his gaze slipping away for a heartbeat before it returns, glittering and hot. “He wasn’t…Jay, he wasn’t lying about—”  
  
“He said I’d leave you.” Jared’s voice is steady and strong, dares Jensen to argue. “He’s a liar.”  
  
Jensen stares at him, biting down hard on his bottom lip, and Jared wants to soothe the tender, reddened flesh with his tongue.   
  
There’s a moment of heavy silence during which Jensen’s features undergo several rapid transformations, too fast for Jared to really get a handle on what Jen might be thinking. Just when Jared’s sure he’s blown it, that Jensen’s gonna retreat and desist, his co-star clears his throat and reaches up. He wraps his free hand around Jared’s neck, drags Jared’s head down to meet his forehead. “Lemme call us a cab, okay?”  
  
Jared closes his eyes and nods.   
  
  
 

xxx

  
  
  
Jared’s feeling the effects of the Tylenol 3 when Chad shows up, and he blinks stupidly at his friend from flat-out on his bed. Jensen comes up behind Chad a minute later, an obviously forced smile on his face, and Jared tries to sit up, remembering his injury a moment too late as pain ricochets up through his arm. “ _Shit!_ ”   
  
“Jesus, Jared.” Chad stares at the cast and splint, letting out a raw chuckle. “I almost didn’t believe it when Tom told me. Fighting with the locals, huh?”  
  
Jared turns and looks at Jensen, who’s standing by the door. The codeine makes it hard to speak around his tongue, but he lifts a brow and tries anyway. “Tom knows?”   
  
“I called him from the hospital,” Jensen explains, slightly hoarse and husky. “He and Mike came by to see you…you probably don’t remember. You were pretty out of it, man. Alcohol and drugs don’t mix, who knew?”  
  
Jared looks back at Chad. “And he called you? Dude, it’s like…what time is it? Aren’t you s’posed to be…not here?”  
  
“You broke your hand, Jared. In a _fight._ ” Chad’s voice makes it sound like the idea is so implausible as to be crazy, and hell, Jared knows he’s a nice guy. He’s never really had a penchant for fighting, but does Chad _have_ to make him sound like a fucking pussy? “You thought I was gonna miss this?”  
  
“Fucking…” Jared’s throat is too dry, and he has to swallow and try again. “Fucking jerkoff was givin’ Jen a hard time. Had to…had to defend his honor, man.”  
  
“Oh, Christ,” he hears Jensen mutter, then he gives a rough laugh. Chad stiffens and throws Jensen a look that even Jared in his doped and loopy state can’t miss.  
  
“You fucking happy now?” Chad snaps, hard and aggressive. “You done messing with his mind yet? Why don’t you find another idiot and put _him_ in the hospital next time?”  
  
“Hey!” Jared frowns. “M’not an idiot, jerk!”  
  
“Dude, shut up.” But Chad’s voice softens when he looks Jared’s way again. “You just…you don’t get it, do you, Jared? He’s _using_ you, man, and I’m sick and tired of sitting back and acting like it’s okay.”  
  
During the exchange, Jensen’s been quiet and out of the way. At that, he comes forward, bristling, and gets right in Chad’s face as Jared watches helplessly from the bed, unable to keep Jensen from hurting anymore.   
  
“ _You’re_ sick of it? How about having some hotheaded little punk harassing you for _three years_ over some shit that never even happened except in his peasized little brain?”  
  
Chad comes to his full-height, which Jared has to admit isn’t really all that impressive, practically brimming with righteous indignation. “Are you seriously trying to deny that you got on your knees and got that part? _Stole_ it from someone who fucking _deserved_ \--”  
  
“It’s none of your goddamned business who I get on my knees for.” Jensen's tone's as cool as Jared’s ever heard, but there’s fire beneath the ice. “And I’m not gonna stand around and let you mock Jared when you don’t have a damn clue what you’re talking about.”  
  
Jared wants to stand up and clap, do a fucking victory dance, but Chad looks like he just threw up in his mouth. “Jen,” Jared starts, but neither of them are paying him any attention.  
  
“You can keep running your mouth as much as you want,” Jensen’s saying, practically shaking with anger. “But it’s not gonna make it true. The truth is, I didn’t do it. I just didn’t. I don’t care if you believe me, but you oughta give your _friend_ more credit. Jared’s not a dumbass, and he’s not a fourteen year-old girl. He can take care of himself and he doesn’t need you picking out his dates for him.”  
  
“Because he’s doing _so well_ ,” Chad returns, but it’s a lot less hostile than before. He looks almost chastened by Jensen’s setdown, flushed from the neck up and no longer meeting Jensen’s eyes. A minute later, he lets out a sigh. “I can't believe he fucking broke his hand for you, dude, he never did that for me.”  
  
Jensen presses his lips together, then blows out a harsh breath. "He would. Jared would do anything for his friends, that's who he is.”  
  
Jared holds his breath, equally amazed by Jensen’s words and Chad’s reaction to them. His friend is watching Jensen with wide eyes, features unguarded for the first time since he’d entered Jared’s bedroom.  
  
“When’d you get so smart about Jared?” Chad wonders, tone a bit suspicious, and Jensen looks down and swallows hard.  
  
Before he answers, he glances up again and his gaze snags on Jared’s. “When I let myself know him. Wasn’t hard after that.” The corners of his mouth twitch, and then he adds, “He’s kind of an open book, if you bother reading the pages.”  
  
Jared’s smile is slow but bright, and Jensen’s gaze so intimate and intense that the fact that Chad’s still in there makes Jared a little uncomfortable. No one else should see Jensen this naked, this exposed.   
  
Judging by Chad’s awkward little cough, he knows it, too.  
  
“Jesus,” he mutters under his breath, making a face. His eyes narrow on Jensen, and then he sighs again. “I still don’t like you.”  
  
“I’ll never like you.” Jensen's answer’s so heartfelt Jared wants to laugh.   
  
Chad nods, then sticks out a hand. “So, friends?”  
  
Jensen stares at the figurative olive branch, at Chad’s expectant face, and then rolls his eyes and takes Chad’s hand. “Yeah, that’s how it works with you, right? Your friends hate you more than everyone else?”  
  
Jared nods from his position on the bed. “Yup.”  
  
Chad flips him off, then claps Jensen on the back. “There’s hope for you yet, Ackles. Jared, try not to break anymore bones over him. He really ain’t _that_ pretty.”  
  
And just like that, Chad’s gone and Jared finds himself alone with Jensen, his dogs, and a boner that isn’t going away anytime soon. He stares up at Jensen from under heavy lids, licking his lips and shifting as best he can without upsetting his wrist.  
  
“That was…weird,” he says, breaking the thick silence they’ve fallen into. When Jensen startles, looking over at him, Jared smiles a little. “And uh…kinda hot.”  
  
Jensen’s mouth purses, eyes skimming Jared in a heated once-over before he schools his features back into nonchalance. “You get off on people yelling at Murray, Jay?” he asks, voice husky-soft as he comes closer and reaches for the glass of water by Jared’s bed. Instead of just handing it over, he holds it up to Jared’s mouth with dark eyes.   
  
Jared lets the coolness run down his throat, then catches Jensen’s hand when he tries to move away. “Hey.” It’s barely a whisper. “C’mere.”  
  
“Where?” Jensen’s brow creases, his throat working and emotions warring across his tired features. Jared pats the empty space beside him with his good hand and gives Jensen the look the entire _Supernatural_ crew’s dubbed Sam’s puppydog face. Apparently, it works just as well on Jensen as it does on Dean, because it’s no time at all before Jensen’s on the bed, pressed up against him. Warm, hard.  
  
Jared makes a sound in the back of his throat, cocking his head on the pillow to look Jensen in the eye. “Tell me about Troy,” he says, soft and unthreatening. He’s ready when Jensen stiffens, and reaches down and tangles their fingers together. “Jen…m’not going anywhere. Just tell me.”  
  
Jensen relaxes bit by bit, but it’s still several long minutess before he speaks. “He was my friend.” The words are choked and edged with a pain so raw that _Jared_ throbs with it, even beneath the numbing effect of pain reliever. Jensen won’t look him in the eye, just stares down at their joined hands and swallows. “I was new in the business…just done some minor modeling gigs and shit. He was older, knew what the hell he was doing. I just. I just wanted some guidance, you know? Was sick of feeling like I was just out there…drifting.”  
  
“Yeah.” Memories of his own frustration and loneliness creep up to strangle his voice, make it gravelly.  
  
“He was my friend,” Jensen says again, this time with an sharp edge of bitterness that makes Jared want to promise then and there he’ll never hurt Jensen that way. He also knows it’s way too soon for that, so he swallows down the protective urges and lets Jensen talk. “I trusted him. I tried to be what he wanted me to be, do everything he told me to do…even when he told me to lay down, shut up, and spread myself open for him.”  
  
Jared squeezes his eyes shut. “Fuck. _Fuck_ , Jen.”  
  
“I was fifteen years old and I let him fuck me in the ass.” Jensen laughs without amusement. “I used to think I didn’t know any better, but now…hell. Maybe I knew exactly what I was doing. I just wanted anything he’d give me. It’s not all his fault, I was using him, too.”  
  
“Fuck that.” Jared hears the anger in his own voice, feels Jensen jump at the sharp growl, but he doesn’t give a damn. “That’s bullshit, Jensen. You were a fucking kid.”  
  
“I wasn’t a kid when I bent over for my job on _Days of Our Lives_ ,” Jensen throws back, just as infuriated as Jared. “I wasn’t a goddamn kid when I blew some guy for a role on _Dark Angel_. I knew exactly what I was doing, Jared. Fucking got off on it, for a little while.”  
  
“Jensen…” Jared stops when Jensen sits up with a curse, running a hand through his close-cropped hair and looking everywhere but at Jared. They’ve taken a few steps in the right direction, but one wrong move and they'll be right back to square one. Jared’s not ready to deal with that, doped up and injured.  
  
He reaches out, skims a hand down the rigid line of Jensen’s spine, feels hard muscle twitch beneath his fingers. “Jensen,” he says again, softer. “I never gave a damn what you did. Just that you wouldn’t talk to me about it. That you didn’t trust me.”  
  
Jensen goes still, but Jared keeps stroking until he feels the planes and curves melt, unknot. When Jensen takes a deep breath, Jared feels it in his palm. “I’ve told you things I’ve never told anyone,” Jensen manages, turning and staring down at Jared with hooded, bright eyes.   
  
Jared’s hand slides down, onto Jensen’s arm. He holds Jensen’s anxious stare for a long moment, then tugs, until Jensen’s hovering over him a scant breath away. When Jensen’s tongue flicks out in an unconscious caress, wetting his lips, Jared’s gaze falls and tracks the movement on a low groan, and then he’s kissing Jensen and it tastes like no time at all since the last moment like this.  
  
Of course, there’s never been another moment like this.   
  
Jensen holds himself stiff and unmoving for a few seconds, then he’s holding Jared’s face between rough palms, mouth gnawing and clashing with Jared’s own as he twists and straddles Jared’s thighs. There’s a sweetness flavoring Jensen’s kisses now, and Jared wonders why he’d never noticed the bitter before. He’s groaning, wanting to roll over and pin Jensen down underneath him, but his cast weighs his arm down heavily and his fingers clench in the covers.   
  
Jensen’s teeth catch on Jared’s bottom lip, tugging, tasting, and then he pulls away long enough to meet Jared’s eyes. He reaches back and yanks his shirt over his head and Jared bites his lip, thrusts his hips up and mutters, “Fuck.”  
  
“Okay.” But Jensen’s voice doesn’t sound as cool and collected as usual, more nervous and excited. Jared can’t stop staring at the freckles dotting Jensen’s pale-gold skin, the newly developed muscle from months of sparring and training for the show. Little things both familiar and new, and he wants to reach out and grab it all. Take.  
  
When he tries, reality comes crashing down in the form of a broken hand and a hiss of pain, and Jensen’s face flushes as he sits back on Jared’s thighs. “Shit, we can’t do this, Jay.”  
  
Jared wants to argue, but the truth is he _knows_ they can’t. And he’s lucid enough to realize that this isn’t how he wants his reconciliation with Jensen to go – him, doped up on pain pills and Jensen dosed with painful memories of the past.  
  
“You’re gonna stay, right?” He can barely choke the words out, suddenly scared to death that he’s misjudged the entire situation. Even worse, that it’s all some sick fantasy and he’ll wake up cold and alone in his bed, ready for another day of work.   
  
But Jensen nods, a smile spreading across his features that’s real and definitely better than anything Jared could imagine, even on his best day.   
  
“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll stay.”   
  
And the fear’s gone.  
 


	3. Chapter 3

**…then i get to try to put it back together: Part 3  
by keepaofthecheez**

  
  
  
  
The day after the barfight is one of the worst of Jared’s life.  
  
Okay, so he’s being melodramatic. But he’s never broken a bone and finding out just how _useful_ they are is kind of frustrating. Everything he wants to do is impossible, and he’s limited by the cast and the codeine and the dull throb of pain shooting up his arm at all hours of the day.  
  
“Want some water,” he grumbles, staring sullenly at the television. There’s a rerun of _Spongebob Squarepants_ playing out on the screen, but he’s not interested in cartoon antics at the moment. “Want some damn water, but I can’t get up because I’m a fucking moron who punches brick walls.”  
  
“Suck it up.” Jensen sounds exasperated, but there’s a twinkle in his eye and he gets up to walk into the kitchen anyway. Jared watches him go, feeling an entirely new kind of frustration. When Jensen reappears, brow lifted, Jared knows exactly how he must look: cranky and surly, unkempt and grumpy.  
  
“It hurts.” He chews on his bottom lip, looking up at Jensen from under heavy lashes. “It hurts _a lot_ , Jen.”  
  
Jensen remains unmoved, holding out his hand and staring Jared in the eye. “Then maybe next time you won’t try to take out a brick wall.”  
  
Jared sighs and grabs the offered glass of water, pouting a little more when Jensen turns away. _So much for subtlety._  
  
There’s a beat of silence as he drinks, and then Jensen reaches for the remote, scooting his chair closer. “Would it help if I put something else on?”  
  
“No, but you know what _would_ help?” Jared’s voice drops to a husky thrum that blatantly emphasizes his intentions , and Jensen catches on quick. His eyes droop a bit, the temperature around them warms, and he shifts closer even before Jared murmurs, “C’mere.”  
  
“I thought your hand was hurting,” Jensen says, but he lets Jared pull him down and across Jared’s chest. Gives a low chuckle, his breath parting Jared’s lips, and Jared can taste their mutual excitement like a rich promise on his tongue. “What’re you up to, Jay?”  
  
“You gotta ask, m’not doing it right.” Jared pumps his hips against Jensen’s thigh, watches green-gold get swallowed by black in Jensen’s eyes. This adds a little extra smugness to Jared’s voice. “And I’m pretty damn sure I am.”  
  
Jensen swallows, lowering himself onto his elbows and bringing their chests flush together. “Oh, you are.” An unhurried smile stretches across Jensen's mouth, and he sucks on his bottom lip, rubbing filthy-slow against Jared’s lower belly. “This good?”  
  
“Um.” Jared blinks, lifting his good hand to wrap around Jensen’s waist. “Yeah. _Yeah_ , that’s…” He trails off with a soft groan, fingers curling in the wash-worn cotton of Jensen’s shirt. His voice goes hoarse, choked. “Jen. God, I want…I…”  
  
“I know.” Jensen’s lips hover over his, then press down just enough to get Jared’s mouth to open. He pulls back, tongue flicking in a wet swipe, and then he’s kissing Jared, tentative and sweet. Jared’s fingers flex, creeping up and under Jensen’s shirt as he feels the velvet-silk slide of Jensen’s tongue against the roof of his mouth. His fingers brush along Jensen’s ribs, drawing out a soft hiss, and the kiss instantly turns dirty.  
  
Jared’s ached for this, to feel Jensen’s pouty mouth chewing and gnawing at his own. The taste he’d gotten the night before just wasn’t enough, and he opens wider and sucks on Jensen’s tongue. Swallows the guttural groans from Jensen’s throat while rolling his hips and squeezing Jensen’s waist.   
  
“Off,” he manages, gulping in lungfuls of necessary air as Jensen drags sloppy-wet kisses down his chin, to his throat, nibbling, laving at tender skin. He jerks at the hem of Jensen’s shirt. “Take your damn shirt off.”  
  
Jensen doesn’t stop his attentions, just reaches back and snags the collar of his tee, jerking it up and over his head. His mouth’s back a second later, catching Jared’s appreciative murmur with his tongue, and Jared smooths his palm down silky, heated muscle. Goosebumps rise up to meet his fingertips and Jensen shivers, pulling back and staring down at Jared through dark eyes.  
  
His mouth is swollen, wet, shining in the dim lamplight that highlights every perfection and every flaw. Jensen holds himself perfectly still, and Jared lets himself look. Touch; skimming the pads of his fingers down flesh and bone and drinking in every reaction, every skip and catch of breath. He ends up with his hand splayed out flat against Jensen’s breastbone, feeling for the rapid thrum of pulse-blood beneath. He digs his fingertips in lightly as if he could reach in and grasp.   
  
“Jared.” His name comes out choked and desperate, Jensen’s lashes fluttering when he blinks. Jared holds his breath and waits while Jensen’s hand finds its way into his hair, tugging lightly on the too-long strands. A beat of silence, and then, “ _Jared_.” Jensen’s throat works, a subtle rise and fall. “I love you.”  
  
It’s so simple, so straightforward and _effortless_ , really, that Jared can’t do anything but believe it. Soft emotions, _relief_ , burst through his fingertips. Looking Jensen’s vulnerability right in the eye, he purses his lips and says, “Of course you do. You’re not stupid.”  
  
Jensen blinks, and then the frazzled nerves melt away, replaced by a blinding smile and hooded eyes. “Cocky bastard.”   
  
Jared just smirks and urges Jensen’s hips to moving with his hand. Jensen chuckles, dipping his head and mouthing just under Jared’s jaw.  
  
When Jensen shifts for better access, everything lines up, and Jared’s breath catches on a low groan when Jensen’s cock presses down against his own. He wants that heavy, swollen flesh in his mouth, his ass, his hand. Wants so deep inside Jensen that nothing’ll ever come between them again.  
  
He lets out a soft hiss when Jensen’s lips wrap around his nipple, licking and sucking the tender bud to hard sensation. Jared imagines himself literally melting into the sheets, high on painkillers and Jensen Ackles. Killer combination, he thinks, and laughs a little to himself.  
  
Jensen’s head lifts, eyes lidded and mouth shiny-pink. “What?” Curiosity edges huskiness, and then, still holding Jared’s gaze, he moves to reclaim his attentions.   
  
Jared bucks his hips a little, lower lip caught between his teeth as he watches Jensen’s tongue lave across his chest, moving lower, and then a truly horrible realization dawns. “Oh, shit. M’outta lube.”  
  
Jensen freezes, lips hovering over Jared’s navel, and then he sits up on his elbows and gives Jared an exasperated look. It would be funny if Jared weren’t so damn hard and eager to have Jensen’s mouth sucking his dick.   
  
“Completely out?” A thread of disappointment colors Jensen’s voice, and Jared bites his lip harder.  
  
“Haven’t had a reason to buy more,” is all he says, suddenly shy and hesitant to meet Jensen’s pointed stare. When he does, he sees the naked heat and pleasure darkening Jensen’s green eyes. His voice goes low, hoarse. “I gotta fuck you, Jen.”  
  
Jensen rears up and presses his mouth against Jared’s, tongue sliding deep. After a minute, he pulls back, giving Jared a look that sets his blood on fire. “Sit tight. Don’t you dare fucking move.”  
  
“Dude, I can barely take a piss by myself. I’m not goin’ anywhere.” But Jared can’t swallow down the urge to go after Jensen anyway when Jen jumps off the bed, pants hanging low on his hips and cock pressing against the seam. Flushed and tousled, Jensen looks like every wet dream Jared’s had for the past six months.   
  
“Maybe we don’t need it.” It’s all Jared can do not to reach down and shove the heel of his hand hard against his dick. “I’ll…I’ll just use my mouth and I’ll be real careful, Jen. I swear.”  
  
Jensen looks a bit taken aback by his words, then a slow shudder ripples the muscles in his shoulders and he makes as if to get back on the bed. At the last second, he straightens and shakes his head. “God. No, we… _I_ need it, Jay. I haven’t been.” He drags in a breath, makes a helpless gesture with one hand. “It’ll just make it easier, okay?”  
  
Jared stares at him, understanding and fierce triumph warring in his heart. “You haven’t been with anyone, either, have you? Since the last time.” _Since me_ , is left unsaid, but they both hear it anyway.  
  
“No.” Jensen doesn’t hesitate, and that tells Jared more than any drawn-out explanations could have.   
  
There’s a beat of silence, and Jared can almost hear the rapid thrum of his heartbeat and the pulse of his cock. When it comes, his voice is gritty and thick. “Hurry up.”  
  
His head falls back against the pillow when Jensen disappears from view, and a smile slowly spreads across his lips. There’s a part of him that still can’t believe this is happening. That they’ve finally come far enough to understand each other, that he’s about to quench a thirst he’s had for far too damn long, and his body throbs, but it’s a comfortable ache. It’s hard to believe that soon he’ll be fucking Jensen again, slow, deep, just the way he wants, but it’s even harder to deny when he’s got bruises from Jensen’s lips dotting his chest.  
  
Alone now and without the distraction of Jensen, his arousal’s almost _too_ strong, too powerful. His pants feel uncomfortably tight, choking his erection, and with one hand and a lot of wiggling and cussing, he manages to get them down past his hips. He’s just closing his eyes and wrapping his fingers around himself, looking to stabilize his control some, when the phone rings. He blinks, fumbling for the receiver and ready to tell whomever it is to get lost.   
  
“Getting started without me?” Jensen’s voice is a sultry tease, and Jared’s irritation dies a quick death. It’s replaced by a vague sense of guilt when Jensen continues, “Hell, don’t stop the show now…keep going.”  
  
“What’re you doing?” Jared complains, but he’s not really upset. Just fucking _horny_ , and yeah, kind of embarrassed to discover that Jensen’s known all along that he could just look out the window and see what Jensen was up to. And, apparently, vice versa.  
  
He hears drawers opening and closing, and then nothing. A quick glance out the window reveals Jensen, arm resting on the open windowpane, a smirk on his face and a bottle of lube in his hand. He grins at Jared and salutes with the lube. “You want this?”  
  
“I want you,” Jared says automatically, enjoying the way Jensen’s easy smile turns a little more wicked. “I wanna be inside you, so will you quit fuckin’ around?”  
  
“I thought you were a romantic.” But there’s definitely a gravelly hint to Jensen’s tone now, and when Jared looks out again, his…co-star? Friend? Lover? God, just what the hell _is_ he supposed to call Jen now? – is nowhere to be seen. He’s still on the phone, though, because not a minute passes before Jared hears, “Never thought I’d want that, really.”  
  
Jared recognizes the choked sounds and feels his chest go tight. Of course, he _does_ want to romance Jensen, but right now that involves them together, inside and around each other. “You want romance? Then shut up and come here so I can fuck you good and proper.”   
  
The buzz of a dial-tone is the only answer Jared gets, and he grins and tosses the phone to the floor.  
  
  
 

xxx

  
  
  
“How’s the hand?”  
  
Jared opens his eyes, lips bitten raw and flushed. He stares down at Jensen, watching Jensen’s tongue curl around the head of his cock and _lap_. “Honestly, I can’t even feel my hand right now. Um, either of them.” A pause. “Or my feet.”  
  
Jensen’s laugh is low and warm, sliding across Jared’s hip and thigh, and then that delicious slick heat is screwing down around him again. Jared lifts his hips and groans, drops a hand heavy on the top of Jensen’s head, fingers tangling through the short hairs and petting. “Goddamn,” he drawls thickly, chewing his bottom lip and staring in unabashed pleasure. “Yeah, Jen, that’s _so_ good.”  
  
Jensen’s response is to suck harder, wetter, until Jared’s squirming and practically begging for a reprieve. It feels too fucking _awesome_ , but it’s not what he wants.   
  
“Get the lube.” Jared tugs on Jensen’s hair until he looks up through heavy-lidded green eyes, his lips slowly pulling off with a slick sound that has Jared’s hips fluttering again. “Fuck, Jen… _now._ ”  
  
“Yeah.” Jensen’s husky murmur punctuates the _pop_ of the bottle cap, and Jared shuts his eyes at the squishy sound of lubricant being squeezed into Jensen’s palm. When Jensen’s hand closes around his dick, Jared keens low in his throat, fucking into slippery fist. The lube’s a little cool, mingling with the drying warmth of saliva, and Jared’s eyes fly open again to pin Jensen in place. Jensen’s naked and flushed, on his knees on either side of Jared’s thighs, just reaching between his own. Jared’s next words get lodged somewhere in his throat as he watches Jensen’s lashes flutter, his fingers disappearing inside himself as he rocks forward on a low curse.  
  
And maybe it’s the codeine, or just the fact that it’s been so damn long, but any inhibitions Jared has disappear with the second thrust of Jensen’s fingers. “Jen, baby, that’s it…fuck yourself open for me.”   
  
At the endearment, Jensen’s gaze snaps up from just below Jared’s chest, lit and blazing. He licks his lips, thrusting his hips toward Jared. “Gonna feel so good, Jay. Been thinking ‘bout you…want you.” His lids fall almost closed, neck straining, and Jared snaps.  
  
“S’enough,” he says, growls, gripping Jensen’s hip with his good hand and frustrated that he can’t just grab Jen and _take_ him. “Jen, let me. Fucking _let me have you._ ”  
  
Jensen sucks in a breath, fingers slipping free as he shivers and scoots up closer. “You know what I missed most?” he says so quietly Jared almost misses it, too transfixed by the sight of Jensen’s ass slowly sliding down his cock. Tight, familiar heat sets his blood pumping, his mouth falling open as Jensen’s eyes go black. “That. I missed that look… _Jesus_ …”  
  
“Jensen.” He can barely get it out through his teeth, and while he wants to take this slow and easy, he also wants to drive up hard, fuck an imprint inside Jensen that’ll never fade away. His fingers flex, palm opening and closing at Jensen’s waist as he gasps and murmurs, “Missed you around me.”  
  
Jensen’s hands rest on his chest, eyes blinking in dreamy satisfaction as he levers up and then back down. “Missed hearing you talk…talk too damn much.” His tongue swipes across his mouth, and he laughs, low and ragged. “Yeah, I missed that a lot.”  
  
“Missed you always givin’ me a hard time.” Jared rolls his hips in time with Jensen’s. “I don’t think you’re as bad as you think you are, though.”  
  
Jensen goes still, staring down at Jared with stark emotion. “Jared, everything that happened. I just. I want you to know, it was never…you were always.” He swallows, tries again. “You were good. _Great_ , and I was…”   
  
Jared searches Jensen’s frustrated expression, insides soft, body hard. “Hey. It’s okay.” He skims a hand up Jensen’s side, finally wrapping around Jensen’s neck and squeezing. “Do I even gotta tell you how crazy I am about you?”  
  
Jensen visibly relaxes, even gives a tremulous smile. “I think you were plenty crazy before I came around.” But he starts rocking again, fucking down on Jared’s dick until a rosy flush spreads down his neck and across his chest.   
  
Jared lets him, going loose and slack against the sheets as he murmurs occasional encouragements and just enjoys the sights and sounds. Clamping heat and muscle. He feels his orgasm approach, bubbling up low in his belly, and then he’s arching his back and coming inside Jensen with a soft cry and hot pulses.  
  
“That’s it,” Jensen’s saying above him, almost crooning, and pleasure of an entirely separate intensity ricochetes throughout Jared. “God, so fucking pretty watching you, Jay.”  
  
“Wanna—” Jared’s voice breaks, fingers gripping cotton sheet. Instead of words, he simply reaches forward and takes hold of Jensen’s blood-thickened and leaking cock, pulling once, twice, watching Jensen’s reaction through his lashes.  
  
“No, don’t.” Jensen grabs his hand and squeezes, eyes slitted. “ _Don’t._ ”  
  
Jared’s taken aback, still trembling from climax and hot, slick, with sweat. “What? Why?”  
  
“Because I wanna fuck you.” The words are a throaty plea, and Jared’s heart nearly stops. “Can I fuck you, Jared?”  
  
“Jesus Christ.” Jared swallows hard. “Jesus, Jen, you have to _ask?_ ”  
  
The look that crosses Jensen’s face then is almost brutally raw, and he slides off of Jared with a small wince, already pulling one of Jared’s thighs up and around his waist. “I’ll make it good for you. I’ll fuck you so good…won’t be sorry.”  
  
Before Jared can point out the absolute absurdity of this statement, Jensen’s bending low and opening his mouth where he wants Jared to open. The flat of his tongue feels like wet velvet. Jared mutters, “Fuck” and lets his legs fall open more. There’s no embarrassment this time, no second-thoughts or regrets. Just Jensen, licking him open.  
  
“Yeah…oh, fuck me.” Jared doesn’t even think about what he’s saying anymore, lost in the heady sensations and emotions of having Jensen doing this to him again. And then Jensen’s right _there_ , pressing up against him, blunt and thick, his gaze locked to Jared’s and mouth a tight line of concentration.   
  
The first thrust burns a lot, but Jared rides it out and the second one’s much easier. He digs his heels down into Jensen’s calves, taking a deep breath and forcing himself to relax. Because it feels so good to have Jensen fucking him, inside him, actually _wanting_ to be there.  
  
“That’s good?”   
  
Even though he’s buried deep inside Jared, Jensen still seems uncertain and desperate for approval, and part of Jared feels like laughing because it still hasn't sunk in for Jensen. Instead he drags Jensen’s head down, kisses him hard. “Fuck me, Jen. I’m yours.”  
  
Jensen ducks his head, growls into Jared’s neck and pumps his hips in slow, unsteady thrusts that leave Jared gritting his teeth against pleasure-pain. He wants to say something, anything, calm and reassure, but can’t quite get the words out around the thickness of his tongue and the feel of Jensen fucking him into the mattress.  
  
He just rubs low on Jen’s back instead, trying to soothe any way he can. Jensen’s muscles shift and flex beneath his palm, his breathing heavy in Jared’s ear. “Love you, Jared. You gotta…gotta believe me.”  
  
And then it’s all too easy to speak. “I do.”  
  
Jensen slams into him one last time, holding himself in deep before he comes with a curse tainting his lips, Jared’s name washing it clean. Jared feels warmed from the inside out, letting out a choked breath and thinking _finally_ when Jensen doesn’t immediately pull away, but drops his head again and glosses Jared’s skin with hot, slick pants.  
  
  
 

xxx

  
  
  
Jared’s not really sure what the hell he’s thinking, coming here.  
  
It’s not that he doesn’t like Allie…he does. Likes her a lot, actually. In fact, he pretty much owes her for his current state of well-being, and that’s probably why he’d accepted her invitation to show up here tonight when he’d really rather be anywhere else.  
  
The front door opens, revealing Mike’s grinning face, and Jared sighs to himself. _Here we go again._  
  
“Little Pala—”  
  
“Call me that and I _will_ kick your ass,” Jared interrupts. “And you better believe I know the moves to do it.”  
  
Rosenbaum’s brows narrow, gaze looking Jared up and down. And then he shrugs his shoulders, throwing an arm around Jared and handing him a bottle of Molsons. “Fair enough. Drink up, man. Your girl’s in the front and your boy’s downstairs.”  
  
Familiar words, different context, and Jared can’t help but grin.  
  
“Thanks.” He taps the neck of his beer against Mike’s, then steps inside. There’s people he knows, and people he doesn’t, all milling around doing God knows what. Jared doesn’t care, all he wants is to show up, give Allie a kiss on the cheek, then find a dark place to crash and watch the Cowboys slaughter the Chiefs.  
  
He waves at Sandy as he passes the living room, grins to himself as she stops arguing with Chad long enough to blow him a kiss. Tom’s in the corner, looking indestructible as always, and Jared nods toward his friend and turns to find Allie blocking his way.  
  
He relaxes into a friendly smile, matching the one on her face. “Hello, ma’am.”  
  
“Hey, you.”   
  
He pulls her close, dropping a peck on her cheek and squeezing her waist. “Nice digs. How does it feel to throw the first official CW post-merger bash?”  
  
She’s practically beaming, rosy-cheeked and bright-eyed. “Pretty damn good, actually. Glad you could make it, Jared.”  
  
“Where else would I be?”  
  
She taps her chin, sending him a sly look, and Jared can’t help but flush. “Hmm, I wonder.” With that, she wiggles her fingers toward Jared’s left and then turns on her heel to greet some people from _Veronica Mars_. Jared glances over and sees a half-closed door down the hall, a slow smirk spreading across his features.   
  
He shoots a look around; no one’s paying him a damn bit of attention to him. Which is just the way he wants it.   
  
He walks over, pushing open the door and seeing the staircase beyond. He can hear a television playing and starts down the steps, already calming as the sounds of the party start to drift away. Dallas is on, already stomping Kansas City, and Jared sighs happily and takes a long sip from the bottle in his hand.  
  
“Like the Cowboys, do you?”  
  
He turns around, sees the figure sprawled out on the bed, and Jared reaches up to finger his collar. His gaze snags Jensen’s, and then he smiles. “Yeah, I’m from Texas.”  
  
“No shit.” Jensen’s voice is a low slur, and he shifts just slightly, the dim lamplight catching on the naked planes of his chest. “So’m I.”  
  
“Good.” Jared’s already reaching for his pants, fingers playing at his zipper as Jensen’s gaze drops, his tongue flicking out across his lips. “’Cause my mama always said, don’t fuck no strangers.”  
  
Jensen’s nose wrinkles as Jared knees his way onto the mattress, crawling close. “Dude. That’s kinda fucked up to bring your mama into it.”  
  
“Last week you let me suck your dick while you were on the phone with your little sister,” Jared reminds him, mouthing his way along Jensen’s jaw. “Gonna start complainin’ now?”  
  
Jensen lets out a soft groan, opening his legs so Jared can settle down deep. “Hell fucking no.”  
  
Jared laughs against prickly skin, nuzzling Jensen’s neck and humping against his belly. He brings a finger to his mouth, sucking slow and dirty, watching Jensen’s eyes go heavy and lidded before he reaches down and starts to stretch tight skin wide open. “Now that ain’t no way for a Texas boy to talk.”  
  
Jensen’s expression goes smug, but there’s a distinct catch in his breath that betrays softer emotions. “Yeah, well, I’m from Dallas.”  
  
  
 

xxx

  
  
  
He wakes up the next morning with Michael fucking Rosenbaum grinning down at him, and Tom standing in the corner shaking his head. There’s a lump on the other side of the bed, and a warm hand slides up the inside of his thigh beneath the sheets. Jared blinks heavy lids, sitting up on his elbow and trying not to let his expression give anything away. “Wha…?”  
  
“Dude.” Michael’s voice takes on a sly hint. “I don’t even wanna know what the fuck _you_ were up to last night.”   
  
Jared follows his pointed gaze across the floor, where his clothes had been torn off and tossed away in the middle of fucking Jensen into the mattress, then against the wall. He winces a bit, falling back and throwing an arm over his eyes. Those cunning fingers start to stroke, getting closer to the awakening flesh between Jared’s legs, and Jared’s smile and voice falters. “Just lemme know when he’s gone, Tom.”  
  
“Gotta get up, man.” Tom sounds wryly amused. “We have Upfronts later today, and you look like the poster boy for Non-Renewal.”  
  
“That’s not all he looks like,” Mike starts, reaching out to poke at the lump of blankets and sheets. “Hey, Tom, think it’ll bite?”  
  
Jared draws on his lip hard to keep from laughing, and Jensen’s head pops out, hair bedraggled and standing up every which way. His voice is thick with sleep and irritation. “ _Dude._ Get the fuck outta here.”  
  
Mike lets out a decidedly evil cackle of glee, pointing his finger and all but bouncing on his toes. “I fucking _knew_ it! Fucking. Well. Knew it! Tom! Tommy, tell them I knew—”  
  
“Welling, shut him up or I will.” Jensen growls, openly glaring now, and Jared’s not even trying to hide his enjoyment.   
  
Jensen’s hand is still clutching his thigh, and Jared shifts a little toward his co-star, waiting to see what Jensen’s reaction will be to this display of intimacy. He sees the corners of Jensen’s mouth twitch, and can’t hold back his own pleased grin.  
  
“We’re outta here,” Tom drawls, grabbing hold of Mike’s arm and shoving his friend toward the door. He shoots a look over his shoulder. “Fuck this up, Ackles, and I’ll bury your body in a cornfield.” Then with a quick wink, he’s gone.  
  
Jensen turns to Jared with a straight face, then his lips purse, full and sulky. “I’m so glad our friends trust me.”  
  
Jared pulls back the sheets, crawling over Jensen and pressing his mouth against Jensen’s in a sloppy, hot kiss. “They just know how crazy I am about you,” he murmurs, low and slurred, letting his tongue trace the line of Jensen’s pout. “They’re protective, is all.”  
  
Jensen’s hands creep up his waist, gripping Jared’s hips and pulling him into a steady, grinding rhythm. Jared’s muscles ache, his head feels swollen from too much alcohol, and he’s about four hours short of a good night’s sleep.   
  
None of that matters a damn when Jensen looks at him the way he is right now, like he’s amazed and thrilled and satisfied all at once. “Crazy, huh. That right, Padalecki?”   
  
“I oughta be institutionalized,” Jared answers solemnly, nose bumping Jensen’s. “And here’s an insane idea…let’s stop talking and get to the fun stuff before Mike figures out a way to smuggle a camera down here.”  
  
Jensen laughs and slides both hands down his back. “Dude, we’re so goddamn fucked.”  
  
Jared flashes his teeth, his fingers already spreading Jensen’s legs apart. “And goddamn happy about it.”  
  
**The End.**  
 


End file.
